It All Started With
by Nijimi Daiquiri
Summary: Anthony and Ian are bored one night, and they check out a video on an unknown website. Soon they will know it was a bad mistake, would Ian be able to escape the grips of insanity? Can Anthony help at all? Or is it all hopeless? TEMP. HIATUS,
1. Chapter 1

It All Started With...

A Blackout.

"Hey, Ian..." Started Anthony, body sprawled over a black desk chair, eyes staring up at the ceiling in boredom, "...I'm fuckin' bored. What the hell can we do?" He asked tiresomely before looking out the sliding door int the dark outside of the night sky.

Shrugging, the shorter of the two spoke tediously, "...I dunno...you wanna play a game?" Ian suggested, standing from the couch and heading towards the xbox they shared and played on whenever they were at a complete loss on what to do for entertainment.

"We should make an Ian is bored right now. That's how bored I am. Or maybe make up a dinner with smosh or something." Groaned the agitated Mexican, closing his eyes for a minute, feeling the effects of drowsiness from not being able to do anything at the moment.

"A dinner with smosh at midnight?" Chuckled Ian, "Why the hell aren't we sleeping if we're so bored?"

Anthony shrugged, "I'm not really...in the mood to sleep- I feel like actually doing something, I'm really pumped up for some reason, but at the same time kinda tired, it's weird." He stated, pursing his lips to one side in confusion, unsure what was even going on anymore, "Just pop in a random game, I could care less what it is."

"Why don't we watch a movie instead? So we can just go to sleep right after- or even during?" Asked Ian, feeling rather sleepy for supposedly no reason.

"Nah, movies are overrated- let's just check out what's on the internet, man." Stated Anthony, turning over in his chair to face the computer, only to face another problem, "...I'm braindead- I don't know what the hell to look for." He sighed, groaning in frustration.

Not a second later, the blue eyed best friend was next to the other, looking at the Internets homepage screen, "...How about we just...look through that meme place with all the memes?"

Anthony gave a light laugh at the way his friend described the website, "Nah, I feel like looking for some scary stuff while we eat something, laughing at the lame stories they post on there."

"But I don't want to read scary stories..." Whined Ian, arms slouching over while he held a stern pout, "I've gotten nightmares from some of those, bro."

This time, the taller male gave a loud laugh at the others unwillingness to participate in a hunt for funny 'scary' stories, "Come on, Ian. We know all those stories are bullshit, you don't have to lie about it if you don't wanna watch it." He coughed lightly and whispered an almost unheard, "Wuss." Before he coughed again, horribly disguising his insult.

The other rolled his eyes and exaggeratedly shook his whole body, while making an melodramatic exclamation with a high pitched, slurred voice, "I'm not a wuss, you betch."

Keeping the joke going, Anthony spoke, "I don't like your tone of voice."

Ian made a face, before literally changing his tone of voice to a more deeper level, "IS THIS BETTUR?" He exclaimed, voice growling as he 'changed his tone of voice' and made a derpy face.

The Mexican let out a contented laugh, smiling at the idiocy of his friend, "Fuck you, Ian."

"When and where?" He smirked, suddenly dancing wildly as he sang, "IAN, THE MASTER OF COMEBACKS!"

Anthony placed a shaking hand over his reddened face, body convulsing with lighthearted laughs, "Shut up already, I'm looking for the scariest shit I can possibly find. So I can laugh at it." He muttered, stopping his chuckles and searching through the net for 'the scariest shit he could find', looking through pages of content he's already seen, until he stumbled across a small forum.

Ian looked at it curiously as well, "What is that? A forum?"

"No, It's a dog."

"Just like your mom!" He smiled, "IAN, THE MASTER OF COMEBACKS!" he fist pumped a bit, before looking over the page with his friend, "...What's the link for?" He whispered quietly, unsure about any of this, since whatever forum this was, seemed to be rather...shady.

"I don't know- you want me to click on it?" He proposed, reading over the rest of the message, "It says; 'Once you have read this, you must watch the video in the link, stare deeply into the girl's eyes, but dare not look away, for if you do, you will be driven insane.'" Finished Anthony, before smirking at the post, "This guy is such a liar. Let's watch it."

Ian looked at it suspiciously, but shrugged and nodded anyway, instantly regretting it once the other dark haired man clicked the link to open up to a new page on an unknown website, "Oh my God!" He wheezed, grappling at his face in shock from the picture of the already playing video, "T-turn it off, Anthony!"

Anthony shook his head, "Nuh-uh, you have to keep looking Ian! It said not to look away or you'll go insane, so don't look away~" He mocked, staring at the picture without a hint of fear, and more of a cocky attitude towards the non shocking video to him.

However, the other refused to look at the bloodied, completely mutilated body of the girl in the picture, seeming to get more deformed as it went through the video; the brown haired American closed his eyes tightly and discreetly placed his hands over his eyes, "I'm not looking at it...that is some creepy shit, bro. It looks way too fucking real."

"Maybe it is~" Joked Anthony, "OoOoh~ I'm a ghoOoOost~! Boo!" He played around, still staring at the video, not really caring about it, it's not like it was real.

But soon enough, it ended for the both of them, the video went blank as a signal it ended and they were both free to leave, "You can move your hands from your eyes now, Ian. Geez, it's just a stupid video." He rolled his eyes, nudging the other so he would remove the hands from his face.

Indeed, the other removed his hands and sat on the floor with a not amused face, "It was fucking creepy as hell." He muttered, about to speak again before-

_skzzzzzzzzz..._

_skzzzzzzz..._

_skzzzzzzzzzzz..._

The computer monitor suddenly turned off, along with every single light source they had; which utterly scared the shit out of the both of them, "OH SHIT." They yelped simultaneously, grasping the closest thing there was to them in panic, not expecting the sudden black out. Anthony then began to chuckle, "Damn, that was one hell of a coincidence, man." He laughed at the others scared face.

"What the fuck, man- that was one scary as hell coincidence, I can't see shit!" He hissed, pushing himself away from the other and pulling out his cell phone, which seemed to _also_ be dead, "...Hey Anthony, is you cell working? Mine seems to be dead or something." Spoke Ian, tampering with his juiced out phone, "Shit!"

The aforementioned man pulled out his own iphone and turned it on, only for it to remain null and void, "...Uh...I don't know what happened." He started, not even relating it at all to the video they had seen, "Maybe it's some sort of weird power outage?" He questioned, looking outside, but saw only lights in the distance, "...That's weird, I don't know what's going on." He ended.

Ian took a deep breath, before exhaling in frustration, "...What the hell do we do now?" He asked, feeling very creeped out, and for some strange reason, there was this nagging feeling at the back of his head as well, bothering him endlessly, "...Listen, Anthony...um...I"m not feeling too good." Ian spoke, scratching the back of his neck, looking over at his room, "I"m gonna go sleep, alright?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Answered Anthony, "I'm going to bed too, man. There's nothing we can do now."

Border Line

Border Line

Morning finally arose from the depths of nighttime, engulfing the house with vast amounts of natural sunlight on this beautifully clear day. It seemed like everything would be fine, as long as the two woke up and ate breakfast before they starved to death.

A groan was heard in Anthony's room, along with a loud, gruff yawn of the late morning, "...Damn, that was the best sleep I've ever had, man." He spoke to no one in particular, instead, removing the sheets from his half naked body and stepping out of his bed, only to let out a shocked shout, "Ian, what the fuck?"

The white man lay on the floor, completely awake, and in seemingly some kind of strange trance, "...Ian...?" Asked Anthony, not amused at all, "Dude, get off the floor, we have to go make breakfast...or order breakfast." He changed, blinking the sleepiness out of his eyes, softly nudging the other with his foot, "Get up, man."

"...Anthony...?" Asked the man on the floor, looking up at the other with a confused face, "...What are you doing in my room?" He questioned curiously.

"YOU'RE in MY room, Ian. Damn, are you on something?" He joked, standing up and bending over to help the other idiot, "Come on, I'm damn hungry."

The other laughed and nodded, "Yeah, I guess I'm still tired or something, I don't even remember sleeping."

"Whatever man, come on. Let's go get something...or we could just make eggs?"

"Let's just go get some 'American' food." Shrugged Ian.

Border Line

Border Line

Once the two came back, feeling normal and holding two large bags of something, they sat down on the table, emptying their packages, "Hell yeah!" Exclaimed Ian, grasping his pancakes with both hands excitedly, "I'm starving man! I feel like I haven't eaten in days or something!"

"Just like always, you damn vacuum." Chuckled Anthony, opening his own food to eat.

As soon as the pale male had laid his eyes upon his meal for more than two seconds, the growling in his stomach had abruptly stopped, and all his hunger disappeared, "...Whoa, dude- I'm not...I'm like, not hungry anymore." He said with a shocked appearance.

The other returned the look with a raised, baffled brow, "We just got this Ian...are you feeling sick or something?"

"No...I guess I just wasn't hungry or something, maybe it just went away." Ian spoke, "But I guess I should at least try to eat it, right?"

Anthony only nodded, beginning to eat his own food which consisted of a bacon egg and cheese biscuit, "You probably just confused yourself or something." He offered, watching the other take a bite out of his pancakes with a disgusted look on his face, "...Is something wrong?"

Pursing his lips, he nodded his head, "It tastes like shit, if not worse."

Motioning his hand towards himself, the Mexican grabbed the pancakes, "Let me try it." And so he did, grabbing an onyx black fork and cutting right into the pancake, tasting the divine syrup, "...It tastes fine to me, there's just something wrong with your tongue."

"There is not!" Ian fought, taking back his pancakes and grabbing his fork,about to try to eat another piece, before a sudden wave of nausea hit him with the force of a thousand fists, "...Oh God..." He whispered, standing from his chair with his back hunched in pain as he held his mouth to keep the any vomit from coming out.

Anthony stood as well, walking over to him, "Are you okay? Do you need any help?" He asked, offering assistance, "Maybe you just caught something, you know? Those shitty fan mails can be pretty sick."

Ian only nodded, pretty much limping over to the bathroom with the help of his best friend patting his back gently, which seemed to help a lot, "I-I have to puke man." He stuttered, running to the bathroom door and slamming it open, before closing it again and leaning over the toilet, beginning to retch his lungs out. It felt like there were needles in his throat, it was so damn painful.

An alarmed shout came from the opposite side of the door, along with a few knocks, "Ian, are you okay? Do we have to take you to the hospital or something?"

The only answer Ian could shout back was garbled up beyond recognition as he vomited into the toilet seat, sinking his head in even further. '_Shit, this HURTS_' Thought Ian, tears blurring his vision as the nausea overwhelmed him like a painful torture sequence, he barely had enough time to even breathe, and reaching for the handle to flush was such a bother right now.

Anthony stood on the other side of the door, waiting for his friends retching spell to pass; but in the midst of feeling worried for him, his hand impulsively reached for the handle and twisted it open, gently walking into the bathroom, only to have his face rewritten with horror, "Oh God, Ian! You're throwing up blood, man!"

The blue eyed male looked over at him for a quick second as the puking stopped, his mouth was covered with blood, along with little bits that managed to get all over his shirt and specks of his face, "A-Anthony..." He whispered hoarsely, his throat sore from being practically eroded away by the acidic blood, "...H-hospital-!" He yelped, before turning back to the toilet and regurgitating an awful mass of blood that nearly chocked him, "Anthony call the ambulance!" Screamed Ian, begging his friend with pale, blue eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

It All Started With...

A Headache

"...Hey, Ian...are you feeling any better?" Asked a voice within the whitened hospital room, containing calm and pale colors.

The other man just nodded with a slightly goofy smile, "...Y-yeah..." Muttered coarsely his voice, "It just hurts a bit now."

Anthony looked down at his friend wrapped tightly in pristine bedsheets, while he sat on a comfortable creamy chair, "...They don't know what happened, man. They couldn't find any internal bleeding or anything, they said you were healthy as you could be...though they did say to lay off the junk food." He chuckled.

Ian laughed nimbly, "...I guess I should...but I'm not gonna." He protested, a weary smile on his pale pink lips, "...How long do I...have to stay here?" Asked his tired voice.

"I'm not sure...probably just for today, then you can come back home. They told me to take care of you for at least a week straight, and if you feel any pain, we have to come back."

"But I don't want to come back...they feed me good food and all but...I just hate sitting around all day doing nothing." Stated Ian, knowing his friend was going to say something about it.

Indeed, Anthony followed along with the others plans, "But isn't that what you do all day anyways?" Jested the man, ruffling the shorter man's hair, whom moved away weakly with a small protest of "don't touch me, douche bag." which made the Mexican roll his eyes lightheartedly at his friend.

Ian eventually just relaxed on the bed, "...So you're coming for me tomorrow? And we'll leave and get some McDonald's? I'm sick of hospital food for a week straight."

"Yeah, sure, why not?" He spoke, giving Ian a light pat on the back, "I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up, alright? I'll be here at around four."

"Alright...bye, Anthony." Finished Ian, watching his best friend walk away, through the door, and completely disappear from sight. It made him slightly uneasy for some reason, as if someone was going to attack him from somewhere once he had left the room, though there was no reason to be paranoid right now while the light above him flickered slightly.

The American man looked around the room as he always did, before gently pushing the remote's 'on' button for the television above him at the left corner. There was nothing better than relaxing and watching television while being fed like a baby, "...Damn, I forgot there was nothing good on here..." He muttered, "I guess I can watch some cartoons. It beats news any day."

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Beep. Beep-_

"What the hell?" Spoke Ian, looking curiously over at his heart monitor, which was also attached to another device which held the fluids heading towards his veins, "I guess I'd better call the nurse." With that, the red nurses button was pressed to call over a nice lady who would shut off the annoying machine.

Not a minute later, the woman entered, and quickly took care of business, shutting up the damn machine and leaving Ian to himself.

How he wished the nurse didn't leave; because a moment later, a sudden pounding hit his head, pulsating through his brain like a tsunami. He groaned, "-Shit!" Hissed Ian, clutching his head in pain at the sudden migraine, "What the fuck- Ah!" He yelped, another wave of nausea hitting him.

Hell no, there's no way he wanted this to happen again- where was the remote? Looking around him, he found no such object, "Shit, shit, shit!" The migraine continued to get worse, although the pain from the nausea had already left, instead just leaving him with a pounding headache unlike any other.

Ian swore this could be worse than cluster headaches, this made him want to kill himself already, "Oh God, please stop!" He begged, wanting the severe symptom to leave.

And it did; which surprised Ian at how quickly it left after he said that, "...I...I should go to sleep...right now..." He whispered, but left the lights on and the TV as well.

Border Line

Border Line

The door slowly creaked open, showing a pair of brown eyes and almost black hair, "...Ian~?" He whispered, walking into the room and gently closing the door behind him, "...Ian, come on, it's time to go." He spoke quietly, walking over to the sleeping man, "Wake up, man." Anthony ordered, looking at the man's even paler features, "You look whiter than before."

No response was received from the man, so Anthony took the chance and shook the other, "Ian, wake up, we have to go home today." He sang lightly, before getting fed up with no answer and pulling the man up to a sitting position, "WAKE UP!" He shouted, trying to awaken the other.

Luckily, that seemed to work as Ian opened his eyes, looking around the room in a daze, "...Is this real life...?" He spluttered, feeling overwhelmingly tired this morning, "Shit...I don't think I slept very well."

Anthony chuckled, patting the man on the back, "You're fine man, you look a bit pale though- let's go get you that McDonald's meal you asked for, so you can finally be lazy at home and sleep all you want."

Ian nodded, removing the blankets from his body and kicking his unshaven legs to the side of the bed, "Let's go, I want to lay down in a bed bigger than myself, this one's really small."

"...That's what she said?" Offered Anthony, helping his friend out of the bed, pulling the gown behind him, "Dude...you've been naked this whole time?"

"They told me they needed a full body CAT scan of me and they might need me later...I didn't really want to change in front of the doctor again..." He muttered, "It was creepy."

Nodding, the other just brought out a pile of clothes from seemingly nowhere, "Here you go, it's your clothes- and you better put them on." Anthony said sternly, "I'm going to go sign you out, alright?" He ended, walking out of the room and leaving Ian to his changing business.

Ian walked over to the bathroom, peeling off his breezy attire and quickly changing it with his usual pants, t-shit, and hoodie, "This feels SO much better." He laughed lightly, getting out of the bathroom, grabbing his cell phone from the room he was staying in, and leaving to go outside with Anthony and a helpful nurse bidding him goodbye.

Border Line

Border Line

They both arrived at the house safe and sound, opening the front door to step into their clean as it could be house, ready to destroy it all over again. Ian walked in and sighed, "Oh, it feels great to be back home...I'm gonna take a shower and relax, man." He told Anthony, who nodded and walked into the kitchen.

"Just don't take a long time- you'll waste all the hot water!" He shouted back, "And remember you still have to eat the McDonald's meal I got you, dammit!"

"I'll eat it when I get out, mom!" He shouted back at his friend, whom he heard scoff.

Anthony shook his head and went along his merry way towards the lonesome table, where he was of course, already digging into his meal, "This tastes just fine, so I don't see why Ian would even get sick by this, he should be alright this time." He concluded, munching down on his fries as he pulled out his double quarter pounder with cheese.

Border Line

Border Line

After both finished their meals, Ian was the first to speak, "Dude...I'm not feeling too good." He muttered, a slight frown upon his face, "Like, the food was great and all- but I think I'm starting to get a headache or something."

"It's probably just all the medicine they gave you...it could be affecting your mind." Suggested Anthony, hoping he wouldn't need to go to the hospital again.

"Yes, it probably is...oh shit- we never did a lunchtime with smosh! Or an Ian is bored!" Ian suddenly shouted, "What the hell do we say?"

Anthony raised his hands, "Whoa, calm down- I already told them that all of our smosh videos were going to be delayed until you got better."

Ian seemed slightly relieved, "...You told them what happened?"

"No, I just said you went to the hospital because you were stabbed by a barber shop pole..." Chuckled the Mexican, "I can't believe they bought it."

"Damn barber shop pole!" Joked Ian, raising his fist as a threat to the pole, before setting it back down, "They seriously bought that?" All he received was a shrugged answer. "Well...do you have anything we should do today? Like...um...I kinda can't think. Haha." Deadpanned Ian, his brain dead of ideas.

Again, the best friend shrugged, "I honestly can't think of anything, but I guess we could watch a movie this time."

Clapping his hands, Ian smiled brightly, "Yeah! What are we watchin' huh? Is it gonna be an awesome movie? Or a-" He cut himself off, vision suddenly going haywire, "What the..." Whispered pale lips, "What's going on- AH!" He screamed, hands reaching up to his head before balling into tight, white fists, "SHIT-! Anthony help!" He cried out, the terrible headache having come back.

"Ian-?" Shouted a fuzzy voice, "Ian, are you alright? Shit-" Anthony immediately stood up and ran to his friends side, unsure of what to do, he pulled him out of the chair quickly but gently, grabbing his waist and hauling him back to the door so they could quickly reach his car, "Hold on, Ian-"

The words just had to freeze in his mouth, along with the rest of his body and his friend's now limp one as well, "...What the..." He whispered, looking at the area where the door was- only to find it covered with layers of thick, unbreakable chains and locks. He couldn't even tell where these came from, all he knew was that the door was now impassable.

He quickly turned to the back door, which was now covered with boards of wood that were nailed to the wall, "The fuck is going on?" He hissed, looking down at Ian with absolute horror. Anthony placed the bearded man on the floor, touching his head to see if he was overheating, but his skin was more cold to the touch than ice, "Shit, Ian stay with me, man!"

The Mexican ran over to the boards and tried with all his might to yank them off, but they seemed to be unbreakable, "Damn this! Fuck!" He cursed, kicking at the wood, before pulling out his cell phone, and trying to turn it on. It was dead.

"Oh my God...Oh my God..." He stressed, going over back to Ian and making sure his pulse was there an that he was still alive, "Shit, Ian wake up!" He cried, grabbing the mans shoulders tightly, "Don't die on me, dammit! You better open your eyes, Ian!"

No later than he had said that, the man did indeed open his eyes, looking terrified beyond belief, "...Anthony...?" He whispered, "...W...what happened...?" His hand gripped the others arm, completely astounded at the situation.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the aforementioned man pulled his friend up, "Thank God you woke up, there's weird shit going on- all the doors-" He pointed to the back door, looking over, before his expression changed to one of shock, "...But...the door was..." He muttered, "...The door was boarded just a second ago..."

Where the door was, it was completely barren of anything besides the glass of the door staring into the backyard abyss. And where the front door stood, was just the normal front door.

"What the fuck..." Whispered Anthony, in complete befuddlement at the situation, "I...I don't know what's going on, man. Just a second ago we couldn't get out..."

Ian still held a firm grip to the other, not even wanting to let go, "...Anthony, I-I'm really fuckin' scared." He admitted, "When I blacked out...I...I was being dragged down the hallway and then there was this...this _thing_ there- it wanted to kill me! It smiled at me and it's teeth were covered in blood- and so was the rest of him!"

"...Was that a dream...?" Asked Anthony, looking at the other with confusion.

"I don't know...it...it felt so real...and...you- you were dead...but...you're right here..." He mumbled aimlessly, "...I...I guess it...was a dream..." Admitted Ian.


	3. Chapter 3

It All Started With...

Blindness

Another week passed without incident, everything was calm, they got their videos done nicely, and it was as if nothing could go wrong anymore. Ian was recovering nicely, although he seemed to be having reoccurring nightmares every night, but it wasn't that bad, and he quickly adjusted.

"Hey, Anthony- what's for breakfast today?" He asked, smiling like an idiot at the table, slight bags under his eyes from being unable to sleep through a night without waking up screaming and crying from some unknown dream- all he knew was the feeling of terror it induced upon him.

Giving a wistful look at the other, "...Oh you know, just some eggs and bacon, your usual breakfast, hm?" He chuckled, feeling an enormous sadness overwhelm him at seeing his friend be so...dead.

"Sounds great!" Cheered Ian, trying to act like nothing was wrong, although he definitely felt the effects, both mentally and physically. His eyes were a very slight red at the corners, almost like the blood was gushing towards his head, "So, how was your night?"

Anthony just gave a smile, "It was the same as always." He couldn't dare ask Ian, he already knew exactly what happened, "...Are you alright?" Was his only question, since the last time he had ran into Ian's room due to the other screaming bloody murder in his sleep, he couldn't wake him up, and all he could do was wait by his side and restrain him.

The lighter haired man smiled at the other, "Oh you know...just sunshine and rainbows." He joked, sitting at the table where the food had already been served by his best friend, whom he knew was a bit worried for him, "Look dude, just don't trouble yourself with me- I'm fine, I'm feeling better than ever today."

The Mexican could see right through the others ruse, "Don't lie to me, Ian. There's no way in hell I'm going to stop worrying, I don't want anything happening to you."

"That makes me feel better." Spoke Ian, a slight sarcastic hint in there, but he truly did mean it...imagine if he didn't have Anthony here- who knows what would've happened.

Minutes were spend in silence as the two ate in a serene tranquility, the atmosphere calm and placid, completely at ease, everything seemed to be getting better, although, they've only been out very few times, since they were slightly afraid of what might happen. So far, nothing has happened to hurt Anthony, but Ian seems to be taking everything in on his own, as if whatever it was, was only after Ian.

After the meals were finished, Anthony was the first to speak, "What do you want to do today? Just hang out? Or go outside and finally sense the fresh air?"

"Fresh air seems really great right now." Ian sure as hell wanted to go outside! He's been trapped in this house all week and definitely wanted to get out, "Let's just go take a walk in the park or something! Maybe even go get ice cream!"

Both of them stood up, placing their dishes in the dishwasher to be cleaned and rinsed, "Alright, let's go!" Anthony clapped his hands and strolled towards the garage door, yanking it open with ease, "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream~!" He sang, trying to make the atmosphere lighter in a sense.

Ian joined right away, "I scream for ice cream!" He encouraged with pearly white teeth, "I want a double scoop of chocolate and vanilla with sprinkles on top!" He shouted like a little kid at the candy store.

Two pairs of shoes stepped into the garage, Anthony walking ahead of the other to reach the car and drive for the other, in a matter of minutes he had reached the car and gotten in, the other following suit right after him, getting in the passenger's seat with a slightly worried expression, but otherwise happy, "...Is everything alright?" Asked Anthony.

"Y-yeah...I just...I dunno, I have a really weird feeling." He mumbled, goose bumps rising on his skin as if to warn him of some unseen danger.

"...Well, are you sure you want to go?" Hesitated Anthony, wanting to make sure the other was completely alright with the idea, "If you want...we can just...look up how to make ice cream?"

With a gulp, Anthony shook his head, "Nah, I'm fine...let's just go to the ice cream shop."

Turning the keys to ignite the car, it roared to life, their garage door curving upwards to let them head towards the outside, "Alright, we're going now." He smiled, nervously pulling out the car and backing up into the road as quickly as he could so they could come back as speedily as possible- seeing as Ian was obviously not for the idea of going out for too long.

The store was quite honestly not even ten minutes away, so when they headed towards the shop, it wasn't long before they got there with smiles on their faces, not even sure why they were worried in the first place, "Hurry up, Anthony!" Shouted Ian, already out of the car and running into the store.

Anthony followed just as quickly, running ahead of him and looking around at all the flavors they had to offer, "Hmm..." He said thoughtfully, unsure on what flavor to pick, "Hey, Ian-!" He called, looking over at the other, who seemed to be frozen in place, not moving an inch from his place at the front of the door, where a few other customers stared at him, "...Ian?"

The other turned towards the source of his voice, although when he turned, the iris' of his eyes seemed to have turned to the iciest blue color Anthony had ever seen, "A-Anthony?! Anthony where are you- I can't see!" He cried out, calling the attention of everyone at the store, "I- I can't see, I'm b-blind! Oh my god- Anthony help me!" He cried out, looking around, searching for his friend.

Anthony immediately ran over to Ian, grasping his shoulders so tightly the other flinched at the contact, "Ian, calm down..." He spoke with an anxious voice, "...y-you're not blind...you were fine just a moment ago, now...I'm going to need you to follow the direction of my fingers, alright?" He asked, rising up a hand with three fingers extended and the others curled in, "How many am I rising?"

"...I- I don't know..." He answered honestly, "Everything is pitch black and...I just...don't know." He whispered, his voice going lower, along with the direction of his eyes, looking directly down at the floor, "...I can't feel my feet, Anthony."

That was it, "We're going back to the hospital, Ian."

"Anthony- I can't feel my feet!" He whispered, biting his lip, "It's cold, Anthony help." Begged the brunette, "Oh my God…" He choked out, hands trembling from an immense chill that had overcome his body, "F-Fuck-" Ian's sentence was interrupted as he tried to move his legs, "-I can't move!"

"I'm calling the goddamn ambulance." Hissed the Mexican, pulling out his iphone and dialing the number quickly, listening to the woman's greeting, "Um, yes- my friend seems to be in…I…I don't know, but he suddenly went blind, he says he's feeling extremely cold, and he can't move- it's like he's frozen from the waist down."

"We're sending an ambulance on the way, sir- please wait 5-15 minutes for it to arrive."

Anthony gave a sigh of relief, before anxiety filled his veins again in a fiery rage, "Ian- Ian stay with me, are you alright?" He asked the other male, who was standing, staring at the wall with no expression, as if in a daze of some sort, not even taking a second to blink, "Ian…answer me, Ian!" Shouted Anthony, shaking the others shoulder only to receive no response, "Fucking shit-"

By now, they had gathered a crowd, staring at them with frightened and worried looks, but others seemed uncaring. Anthony however, had his own issues to deal with, "Ian!" He shouted, clutching the man's face and shaking it a bit, "Ian snap out of it, dude! Stay with me!" Screamed distressed lips.

"Anthony...?" Came Ian's soft whisper, and to Anthony, everything seemed to start going in slow motion, like the world around them was blurred and nothing else mattered, "...I want to die..."

"D-don't say that, Ian." Slightly scolded the dark haired man, "You don't actually want to die- you're mind is just...you're just imagining things right now, don't say that."

The blue eyed American didn't respond, just continued staring at the wall with a blank, null gaze, "...I'm sorry..." He whispered so lightly the other almost didn't hear it.

"What for-?!" Before that sentence could be finished the other had suddenly collapsed to the floor, limp like a freshly dead body, "Ian!" He screamed, checking the others pulse and feeling his cold skin, "Oh God, no- no! Ian you better fucking wake up!" Anthony shrieked his hands feeling for any signs of life, "You're not going to just fucking die on me, Ian!"

* * *

>Border Line<p><p>

Border Line

Complete silence engulfed the hospital room the other two were forced to stay in again, not a single movement was inside the structure but the steady breathing of Anthony, who looked over at his friend's bed, where Ian lay helpless and looking like a ghost.

_Beep._

"Was it my fault, Ian?"

_Beep._

"Is it because I made you go?"

_Beep._

He bit his lip, feeling absolutely awful for what happened to Ian, "I'm sorry." He whispered, the heart monitor being nothing but background noise as he looked at the others pale, ashy face and dead features. Anthony placed his hands over his mouth, resting his chin on them, "...Oh God...I'm so sorry, Ian."

There was still no noise, but that of rustling curtains. Nurses and doctors had come in, but couldn't find a single problem with him, "What's going on...why is this happening to you?"

Nothing could be done at the moment, Anthony just hoped Ian could get better again and head back home. But for now, he just had to wait through this misery, this crushing anguish that overwhelmed his heart. All of it, because of him. It was all his fault, making him head out when he was hesitant on going, clearly slightly shaken.

He only wanted Ian to cheer up, he only wanted him to get better so everything could be normal again.

Now look at what he did! He landed him in the hospital! "Fucking shit!" He screamed, standing up and flipping over the table that was near him, the large crash of course signaling the crew at work in the hospital, "God damn it! It's all my fault!" He cried loudly, tears falling down his face in shame.

A nurse ran in, alerted and surprised, "Is everything alright in here?!" Behind her came in more doctors and security, making Anthony look up for a second before continuing his wailing, "Sir, I'm going to need you to get up." She spoke calmly, touching the man's shoulder, who didn't react besides slowly getting up in a sobbing mess, "What's wrong, sir?"

"It's all my fault..." Anthony gasped out, "He was nervous about going out but I took him out anyways and now look what happened!" He hissed, "The bastard got in a coma and left me here!"

"It's not your fault." She whispered, trying to pull him out of the room as the commotion died down, "Now come on, let's get you calmed down."

Anthony shook his head, "Hell no! I'm not fucking leaving his side, damn it!"

"He'll wake up soon, he's not in a coma." She whispered soothingly, "He isn't going to die either."

Another shake of the head was seen, "I don't care, I'm not leaving his side! He's my best friend and I won't ever abandon him!" He shouted back, going over by the others bedside, looking at Ian sorrowfully with reddened eyes from the crying, "Ian, wake up, man!" He sobbed, clutching his hand lightly, "Don't leave me here...because I would never leave you alone. Stay with me." He whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

It All Started With...

A cough

It's been four weeks. Ian hasn't woken up from that coma he was in; Anthony forced himself to stay with the other every step of the way- he swore he could feel his sanity draining away with every day he sat there and watched his nearly dead friend. His companion.

"Come on, Ian..." He whispered, "Wake up already- you can't give up so fucking easily!" It was tough for him, having to endure lonely days and nights with no one to talk to or even smile at. He could barely even give his own girlfriend a real smile, everything seemed so dull now, everything faded since Ian began to slip away.

Unbearable. Life without the other man would be just that: unbearable. Anthony couldn't picture himself in a world without his best friend, smosh, or all their happy adventures. Now that he thought about it...smosh has been losing it's subscribers recently; he can't scroll through the comments anymore- everyone was completely against them. Most were demanding more episodes when Anthony had clearly posted that Ian was in a coma. They were all so inconsiderate.

There he was again, getting lost in his own thoughts, fingers in his hair as his eyes faced the floor. He wasn't even sure what to do anymore, why is this happening? Why them? Why now? He couldn't understand why these things were happening- was it him? Did he do something wrong?

"Anthony..."

Fuck, now he was going insane. He swore he heard-

"...Anthony?"

Startled out of his stupor, the darker haired man looked up at the source of the voice in shock; he couldn't even speak.

"...Sn...snap out of it, dude." Chuckled the blue eyed man, clearly disoriented and in the stages of waking up, "...What...going on...?" He mumbled out, still in a daze from being so deeply asleep.

"Oh my god..." He whispered, eyes widening as he stepped closer to the man, "...Ian...you're awake!" He smiled, immediately leaning over the bed to hug the other in a tight embrace, before detaching himself from the shorter man, "I'm so glad- you...I thought you were gone, man. I thought I was going to lose you..."

Ian stared at the other strangely, "What happened?" He spoke quietly, or even quieter than he was already speaking, "I...I can't remember a thing."

"You knocked out when we went for ice cream, man...you...you said you wanted to die- I thought I was going to lose you, man." Whispered Anthony, staring at the other worriedly, holding back the tears of happiness that threatened to spill, "Don't do that again."

"...I won't." Uncertainly murmured Ian, feeling horrible at what he made his friend go through, "I'm sorry, Anthony."

"Don't be sorry- it's not your fault." Stated the Mexican man, "Just...never say you want to die, ever again."

* * *

>Border Line<p><p>

Border Line

Finally arriving into their now slightly messy home, they both smiled and went to sit by the couch, relieved to finally be home. They sat in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each others presence.

"You want to do a Meal Time with Smosh? Or Ian is bored?" Spoke up Ian, still smiling lightly, "The fans are probably a bit upset by now...we've been gone for a while, haven't we?" He murmured, looking out the window, lost in his thoughts, "...I can't believe I was knocked out for four weeks."

Anthony sighed, "Let's just be glad that's over." He then whispered under his breath, "And hope I didn't say that too soon." Standing from his seat, "Let's just tell the fans that we're taking a break from smosh for a while...with a short video, alright?" He smiled, "It's not like we're ending it, I'm just going to tell them you fell ill again and we're taking another break to make sure you're fine."

"But won't they think we're just milking them?" Muttered Ian, "We've been gone for weeks."

The taller male shook his head, "I think you look sick enough...but if you want, you could lay in bed and pretend to be sicker than you actually are."

Ian thought about it for a while, stroking his light stubble, "How about we make an episode about it? You know...I want to make the situation lighter than it really is- I don't like to worry them, just make them laugh and I can be happy." He smiled innocently.

"Alright then, but not right away- rest for a while you just got out of the hospital." Stated the other, giving back a smile.

* * *

>Border Line<p><p>

Border Lone

They had already finished the video- or more Anthony than anything else; in the middle of recording, Ian had been struck with a strange cough, prompting Anthony to stop the video and make it much more serious instead. He has made it clear that Ian won't be too well for a while, and he needs to rest as much as he can.

After a grueling hour, the tanned man finally finished and began posting it to their main YouTube channel, not even checking to see if it had uploaded correctly before leaving to be with Ian. The many steps it took to get to the others room were quick and fast paced, leaving the shorter man by himself for even a second was frightening.

"**Anthony!**" Came a blood curdling scream from across the hallway; the Mexican man didn't hesitate to sprint over to the others room, "**Anthony, help me!**" Screamed Ian from the inside. Once Anthony reached the door and yanked on the knob, he found it locked and hotter than the depths of hell.

"Ian! Ian calm down, unlock the door!" He shouted back, pounding on the door repeatedly, not caring if his hands got bruised or if he broke the door, "Ian, open the door!"

There were loud sobs from the other side, "I can't see anything! It's pitch black and-" Ian had gone into a sudden coughing fit, "I swear something's in here with me!" He shrieked back, terrified at the current situation, "Anthony please help me!"

"Don't worry, I'll get you out in a second!" He hollered through the door, only to receive no reply from the hazelnut haired man, "Ian?!" He called, still no reply. Giving a shaky sigh, Anthony pulled out a black hand gun, loaded with bullets and ready to be fired; he aimed the gun to the doorknob, then fired it in an attempt to break the lock and get in the room.

Yet the door didn't even budge- instead the bullets seemed to repel from the door and fall ungracefully to the floor in front of the brown eyed man's feet, "Fucking shit-" He hissed, dropping the gun and running out of the house; he had to reach Ian this instant. Nothing stopped him from going through the door and across the grass like a hurricane's wind, knocking over anything in it's path. Eventually, he had come to a stop in front of the window: inside was pitch black, nothing could be seen.

"**Ian! Ian answer me!**" Begged Anthony, slamming his hands harshly onto the glass, once, twice, and on the third time it was broken. Smiling like an idiot, he broke through the glass with his already bloodied hands, shards impaling his skin like razor blades, "Don't worry, Ian!" He called out, but still did not receive a reply.

Finally breaking through the barrier, the wheat skinned man jumped in, feet landing softly onto the plush peach carpet of Ian's room, it seems that he now had to navigate with his memory through the room, "...Ian?" He whispered softly, arms reaching around him to search fr his surroundings.

Then he heard it. Weak, barely there coughs coming from where he was sure was the closet as his hands stretched across the door, "Don't worry- I've got it..." He spoke, opening the door, still unable to see anything as he searched for the body of his best friend, "Come on, give me your hand or something."

Before he could look any further, he had bumped into something by his leg, which he quickly grasped at and examined closely, fingers spreading across the hair, face, and body, "...Is that you, man?" He asked, unsure if what he was touching was Ian or not, but he was fairly sure it was, "Come on, we're getting out of here." He murmured, pulling the body up over his shoulders and slouching slightly at the increased weight brought upon him.

He began to search for the window once more, hoping to escape this place, absolutely needing Ian to be safe, the anxiety of the situation was killing him, "Don't worry, bud." He groaned out, before releasing a startled yelp as his hands were punctured by something- possibly the remaining glass on the windows, "We're getting out!" Pulling the other off of his shoulders and through the window, he quickly began to climb out himself, lucky to have escaped from the abyss.

Half way out, he could see the grassy green ground and the cloudy blue skies, but there was something wrong. What he grabbed wasn't Ian; it was a bloodied, rotting corpse of a small girl, maggots and other disgusting creatures infesting the body, consuming it with gluttony. "...O-oh..." Choked out Anthony, looking ready to puke, "Oh God." He hissed, covering his mouth to keep from vomiting.

Suddenly, like a snake striking down it's prey, Anthony felt a harsh tug on his jeans, accidentally sending his stomach to clash into the broken window, wounding him badly as the glass penetrated through his skin and possibly into some organs, before he was roughly pulled back down into the abyss. "Ugh!" With a thud and loud groaning, he landed on the floor, feeling the blood pooling out through the large gashes on his stomach. He was beginning to feel disoriented, and slightly nauseous, "Fuck!" He screamed, clutching his abdomen at the searing pain that cut through his skin.

He could hear the slight cries of someone else in the room, but his mind didn't seem to process it well, he couldn't tell if it was Ian, or what it was. All he wanted right now was to make the burning pain stop, but that whimpering continued to get louder, and louder.

Continuing to raise in volume until it was transformed into full blown screaming and shouting at something to stop, what could it have been? "Ian?!" Called Anthony from his position on the floor, "Ian where are you?!" He cried out, then went back to toughening himself up, "This pain is a bitch." He hissed, but continued to call for the other, "Ian! Ian answer me!"

"**Anthony, save me!**" The shouts were then muffled by something, as if a hand was forcing the other to stay quiet, "**Stop!**" Screamed Ian, voice still muffled by something.

Looking around, the taller man still couldn't source the voice, nor could his eyes adjust to the midnight darkness. Quickly scrambling to help Ian, he had stood up from his position and walked around the room, reaching and grabbing at anything that he could, but there was nothing, he could not see Ian, he could not touch him, and he could not hear the origins of the voice, "**Ian!**"

In the flash of an eye, there was a blinding white light that zoomed past the Mexican man's deep brown eyes, yet still rendering him blind, "Answer me, dammit!" When he couldn't find the other anywhere on the floor, or on his bed, he scouted around some more, "...Why...?" He hissed, "What the fuck is going on?!" Grabbing what he supposed was a lamp, Anthony smashed it against the wall with a thundering crash as it fell to the floor, shattered into pieces.

"Anthony!" Spoke Ian, calling out to the other and trying to reach him.

Looking around, he could see his sight had come back, everything in the room seemed normal except for the broken lamp. "Ian?!"

"Up here!" Shouted the sky eyed man.

Looking up towards the ceiling, Anthony found the other, but not how he would've wanted to find him. Ian stood attached to the wall by thick, strong ropes burning into his skin and causing blood to ooze from his fresh cuts, not to mention sporting many bruises littered around his body and severe wounds on his chest and legs, "Ian..." He murmured, looking around for a moment, before spotting a small brown box where they kept their unessential items such as knifes and razor blades.

Raising himself to the ceiling by the chair that stood in front of the desktop, Anthony began to quickly cut away at the ropes that bound the other in such an uncomfortable position, "W-why are you naked?" He asked as he placed an arm around Ian's torso so he wouldn't fall.

"W-when everything went black...something just got me...it was attacking me- like an animal or something." He spoke, before hissing at the pain of moving his aching body, "My clothes must have ripped in the process- I still...I still have pieces of my jeans and shirt." By the time he stopped talking, he was already being brought down as gently as possible; which wasn't very.

"I'm calling an ambulance, alright? You're bleeding worse than I am." Whispered the taller of the two, eyes gazing over at the man's wounds, "...What the fuck is going on?" He questioned.

"...I honestly don't know." Whispered Ian, "But I'm beginning to get really fucking scared."

Border Line

Border Line

No matter what they did, it always seemed as if Ian continued to end up at the hospital, but now they were both interned there for a couple of days due to severe internal bleeding and minor concussions. While this was not a rather good place to say it, they were both glad to be in the same room as each other with the watchful eyes of nurses and doctors, knowing they were safe.

Yet through all of this, Ian still continued with that strange cough, he was beginning to sound like a tuberculosis patient; the sound of it was awful to listen to. But when it was over, anyone with a working set of eyes could see how pained Ian was by that cough; he even coughed up blood once.

"Ian, you should get the doctors to check that out for you." Begun Anthony, only to get cut off.

"I already did- he said that everything sounded fine." Ian murmured, weaker than before due to the blood loss, he felt like a piece of shit right now; he just wanted to relax but that wasn't happening.

Sighing, Anthony began to rub his temple, "What the hell is wrong with them- you're obviously sick."

Ian nodded, agreeing with the other, "Maybe it'll pass by quickly."

Anthony looked over at the sick man, still coughing into his hands roughly, "I hope so...I just want you safe, Ian. I don't know what's happening...but...it seems to be affecting you more."


	5. Chapter 5

It All Started With...

Silence

Today was the day they had left the hospital, Ian still had that sickly cough and Anthony was still scarred from what had happened before. Now thought, they just stood in front of their house, staring at it from a distance as if it were evil- there were absolutely no signs of what had happened, no broken window, no dead body, nothing.

It was all normal.

Too perfect.

"...Anthony, I don't mean to sound like a pussy but...I honestly don't want to go back in there, I'm kind of scared." Whispered the ill brunette.

That was all it took for Anthony to say, "It's alright Ian, I won't make you go in there. We can go chill at a hotel or something for a while, alright?"

"But I don't have money."

"It's alright, I always keep my wallet." Murmured Anthony, glancing wearily at the car, "Come on, we're walking."

Ian looked over in confusion, "Why don't we just take the bus?"

"I just have a really weird feeling today, I'd rather play it safe with you- I don't trust anything at our house right now, and I'm not risking anything." Stated Anthony who only received a nod from Ian.

Border Line  
>Border Line<p>

Both had finally made it to a hotel, the sun nearly setting. It was nothing too fancy- just a normal hotel with two small beds and room service. Just the basic assortments and pay for around three days; a small couch that stood before the TV as the screen blared brightly across the room. Ian and Anthony glanced around the room, their usually hyperactive personalities completely gone from their system, all they could do was sit in silence in their new room, watching the television, occasionally switching over to the news to spot any strange activity- but so far there was nothing.

They did not come with another set of clothes, but luckily the hospital had washed their clothes and Anthony was sure they could shower and reuse them for the next three days since the building had a washing room. Sure, it was disgusting, but he'd rather stay away from that damned place for just a while longer...he couldn't risk anything right now, especially not his best friend. Anthony took a wary glance before shifting in his spot to view the television.

Ian seemed to be drifting away from him by the second; the once bubbly man was so unusually quiet that the mood of the room felt uncomfortable- but Anthony did not want to change it. Another glance and he saw that Ian was paler than usual, his eyes surrounded in deep dark circles, and clearly needed to shave again before his stubble turned into a beard...now that he thought about it.

Anthony stroked his own stubble clad chin and bit his lip, they've been neglecting themselves quite a bit. But, at the moment, were blades even an option? Was ANYTHING an option anymore?

He did not know what to do, but he was sure there was a razor in the restroom, the hotel staff always left new toiletries for every new guest.

He was sure he could wait a few more days without it though. Shaving was not a necessity and the only drawback was a beard.

Maybe some well needed sleep was an option, "...Hey..." He called out, trying to reach the others attention, "Hey, Ian. How about you get some sleep?"

The brunette quickly shook his head, "No, I-I can't, not right now."

Anthony could only nod, staring at the television with an unreadable expression. He continued flipping through the stations, trying to find something that would at least diffuse the thick awkwardness in the room. Eventually he just ended up with nothing to do or watch and walked over to his bed; legs numb from walking from the trek to this hotel. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be sore tomorrow.

"...Are you okay, Anthony?" Came a near ghostly voice, so low that the speaker could barely hear it.

"I'm fine, Ian. Just tired from the long walk here." He gave a light smile, "a much needed workout, right?"

Ian barely gave a twitch of the lips and whispered, "I guess I should sleep too." Before standing and heading towards his own bed whilst the darker haired brunette was already snuggling under the sheets of his bed.

"Aren't you going to shut off the tv?" Asked a yawning Anthony.

"...It'll get dark." Ian stated, standing still, "...I want the tv on."

The other nodded and murmured, "Sure, man. Goodnight."

Ian bit his lip and looked around the room with a paranoid gaze, "..." He sat on the bed and shoved away the covers, "Goodnight."

Border Line  
>Border Line<p>

There was a gentle crawling sensation along his legs, slowly inching their way up hairy thighs, which Ian tried to shuffle off, but they persisted. Once they reached his groin the blue eyed man sat straight up from his dream-like state and kicked off the covers.

He found it strange that the television was now off, hell there was such a silence that it nearly deafened him. Taking a moment to adjust his eyes to the dark, he finally focused on slithering, long tendrils of something crawling up his legs. Grasping at them with his hands he tried to get rid of them, but only succeeded in the things wrapping his arms together and tightening like a rope. Ian then looked over at Anthony and opened his mouth to scream but found the tendrils wrap around his nose and mouth with an iron grip, rendering him of breath.

Even his muffled screams and shouts wouldn't sound, it was as if this place was void of any noise. Ian looked over at Anthony, making a complete raucous in his bed but even as he fell to the floor there was no sound.

'Anthony!' He thought desperately, quickly losing his oxygen with the frantic struggling, 'wake up! Please, please wake up!' There were almost tears forming in his eyes. The long tentacle-like appendages were beginning to tug on him quite harshly, before beginning to drag him by the feet towards the underbelly of the bed. Ian continued to struggle with the appendages, kicking and trying to scream- anything to wake anyone up.

Then the lack of oxygen got to him, leaving him to heave and hyperventilate like a mad man. Still, there was no noise. He looked up to where Anthony was one last time, quickly being dragged under the recesses of the bed, the tendrils beginning to feel more like hands; it was starting to get painful. Like daggers ripping into his legs.

Eventually he began to feel lightheaded from the asphyxia. He was being engulfed into the darkness of both his subconscious and the metal death trap of the bed. The last traces of light brown hair disappearing under the twin sized bed, body vanishing from view.

Border Line  
>Border Line<p>

Anthony awoke later the next morning to a repeating low hum of sobs- "Ian?!" He called out as his body swiftly rose from the bed to look at the other. Or should he say where the man was _supposed_ to be, "Ian?!"

He heard the other but was unsure as to where he was, "...oh god, _Ian_?!" He shouted, ushering himself around the room and almost flipping everything over. The only thing that allowed him to find Ian was a particularly loud thud resonating from below the second bed. Hesitantly, the man crouched to his knees and called out, "Ian...?"

Muffled pleading came from beneath the bed where the man was; Anthony wasted no time in getting to the other and grappled the bed's underbelly. "Where are you?" He asked, feeling only the plush carpet beneath his fingers.

**CLANG.**

A subdued groan reverberated beneath the bed. It seems as if Ian was being held inside the metallic frame, concluded Anthony before reaching in and retracting the other man from the mattress.

Slowly, Ian's body was revealed to the light; bright scars of what looked like rope burns wrapped around and across his arms, legs, thighs, and torso. A dark, inky substance was present on his mouth, effectively muting any kind of speech.

Anthony quickly tried to pry off the intruding substance, but the more he struggled, the more it seemed to leech on. Whatever it was doing must have been hurting Ian because not too long after the shorter man started shaking his head for the other to stop.

"I have to get it out, Ian- who knows what it's doing to you?" He murmured worriedly, proceeding to forcefully yank the thing out, which made the blue eyed man begin to splutter and sob loudly. Although much to their content, the tendrils finally released and out came a long trail if the substance, almost an entire yard long of the aqueous form.

The burnt umber haired man groaned in disgust while throwing it across the room, then looking to the nearly dead figure beside him, "Are you okay?"

There was a pregnant pause before the other continued, "...y-yes." His voice was dry and raspy, "...my throat-."

"I know, don't talk." Murmured Anthony, examining the others body trauma; it almost looked like he was gagged and bound- scratch that, he _was_ gagged and bound. "...Ian I don't know how to fucking help you, man." He choked out, tightening his lips into a straight line, eyes watering, "God damn it." He hissed.

"Don't cry, Anthony." It'll get better eventually, right?

...Right?

* * *

><p>AN: I had to separate this chapter and the next into two parts- the next will be up in a week or so.


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